


Ready in Three

by helsinkibaby



Category: FBI (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Het, Romance, Secret Relationship, jubal’s pencil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:02:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23860501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: At the end of the day, a theft is reported.
Relationships: Kristen Chazal/Jubal Valentine
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30





	Ready in Three

**Author's Note:**

> Because a lot of us noticed in one episode, Kristen had Jubal’s pencil. Not a euphemism.

“Hello, is that the FBI? I’d like to report a crime please.” 

For once, the phrase doesn’t make Kristen break out into a cold sweat, coming as it does at the end of a long shift. Part of that is because it’s coming through on her personal cell phone, a number that your regular FBI informant wouldn’t have. A greater part is that it’s Jubal who’s on the other end of the line and while she can’t see him, wherever it is he’s hiding, she can hear the smile on his face as clear as day. 

Which means he’s on his own somewhere - he wouldn’t have gone home without letting her know and he’d never risk blowing their cover, not when they’re doing so well at keeping their relationship on the down low. 

“Oh really?” she says, leaning back in her seat and letting her own smile show through. Not too much though - she’s still in the bullpen and there are a couple of people still floating around, finishing up paperwork like she is. “And what would that be?” 

“Theft.” The response is prompt and immediate and she prepares herself for something corny and cheesy about how she’s stolen his heart - yes, he is ridiculous enough to try it, he has done so in the past and she’ll never tell him but she actually finds it kind of adorable. “Someone stole my pencil.” 

Surprise makes her laugh, the sound loud in the quiet office and she stifles it quickly. “Oh, I see,” she says. “That is a major problem, Sir.” 

“Well, I’m glad you’re taking it seriously, Agent.” She can still hear his smile but his voice seems to have dropped lower. It’s almost husky and she fights a shiver that has nothing to do with air conditioning. “I happen to be very fond of that pencil.” 

To distract herself from the shiver that can no longer be fought, Kristen studies the pencil in her hand, the one she’d filched from his desk last week when she needed to scribble a note on a file. She’d walked away, taking the pencil with her purely by accident and she doesn’t know why she never returned it. 

Although if she’s honest, the way Jubal’s eyes widened when he saw her holding it was a pretty good reason. 

The way his eyes darkened when he saw her tap it against her lips was an even better one. 

His voice, even lower now, brings her back to reality. “I trust I can count on your full support to bring the perpetrator to justice?” 

Kristen lifts one eyebrow, unsure if he can see her. She certainly wouldn’t put it past him. “Absolutely. We always get our man.” 

There’s a knowing chuckle on the other end of the phone. “I have no doubt, Agent Chazal.” Another shiver, this one running down her spine, pooling low on her belly and she has to shift on her seat, pressing her thighs together. “But I’m sure whoever the culprit is, they’ll find a way to make it up to me.” 

“You have something in mind?” She looks discreetly around before she speaks and she’s sure she sees a quick flash of movement near the far door, as if someone has just ducked out of sight. 

“How about dinner?” There’s a pause, then Jubal comes around the corner, leans against the wall and acts like they’re not having a conversation, like his eyes aren’t boring into hers. “And then we see where we end up.” 

Kristen smiles, slowly bringing the pencil to her lips, inserting it between her teeth and tilting her head to the side, like she’s considering it. 

His intake of breath is quiet, but not quiet enough and he can’t hide the look in his eyes, the look that makes her fairly sure that their dinner is going to be more like dessert. 

“Give me ten minutes?” she asks and he doesn’t blink. 

“Five,” is all he says as he hangs up the phone. 

She’s ready in three. 

So is he.


End file.
